


Well-Met

by Dirtcore Dreams (NakedEye)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Armpit Kink, Body Worship, Come Marking, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Manhandling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Smut, Sweat, musk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 05:57:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NakedEye/pseuds/Dirtcore%20Dreams
Summary: Bucky is waiting to be called on, to be made useful again, to see the man he loves. Set adrift, he has an encounter with the leader of the Jabari and they leave a lasting mark on one another.





	Well-Met

**Author's Note:**

> Got prompted for some sweaty, raunchy Bucky/M'Baku on my porn blog and got carried away enough with it that I decided to post it here. Hope y'all enjoy!

There’s something about being outsiders in this utopia that draws them together, at least that’s what Bucky likes to think. It’s such a strange sensation, to see all these people so completely free from suffering, but be unable to partake in it himself. It’s as though his pain has put him behind a pane of glass, cursed to forever be looking from the outside in. 

But then he sees the Jabari, locks eyes with their leader, and there is something electric there. It thrills down his spine and make him freeze in place. It’s not intimidation, but rather, some sort of chemistry, kinship. 

He lets it sit in his mind for a while, turning it over and over in his head at night, staring up at the thatched roof of his hut, hunting for stars. Though it takes a while to act on, he thinks of it constantly. During his morning chores, his assessments with T’Challa, his sweating nights. 

The tension breaks not by him heading into the mountains, but instead when the Great Gorilla comes to visit himself. It’s meant to be a power play, him sneaking into the White Wolf’s hut unbeknownst to the King of Wakanda, looking to make a parley of his own. 

The Jabari have little need for more fighting prowess, but the chance at global connections, influence outside their mountains, that is the real prize. Bucky just so happens to know quite a lot of people that have more than their fair share of clout across the globe. 

M’Baku catches him naked, sweating. His hair is pulled back, messy and greasy, his feet dirty, his body reeking. He’d been crouched in front of a fire, trying to cook dinner without boiling alive this close to the equator. He’d been offered a nicer place in the city, but opted into this quieter, simpler life. 

He did not bother standing out of the crouch, nor diving for some clothes, instead just turning to watch the other man over his shoulder, idly reaching out to stir at the meal in his cast iron pot. 

M’Baku eyed him back with appreciation, though for what exactly it wasn’t clear in the moment. It could have been an assessment of his scars, his muscles-- as a tool. It could have been lust at the sweat running down his asscrack and dripping off his balls as they swung about in lazy, pendulum motions between his ankles. 

Bucky felt a little uncomfortable either way, not quite proud of the things he’d done to become such a vicious legend, nor of the current state of his body, unwashed and unadorned. He was sure aside from the usual day’s grime, he’d taken care of himself less than a man such as this was used to-- his feet sour, his hair limp, his hole muddy. 

But that’s what a listless depression can do to a person. M’Baku merely strode up to him, gripped him by the back of the neck like a whelp, and hauled him to the table, depositing him in a pile. “I did not come all this way to find a beaten-down dog. Where is your fire?” 

Bucky didn’t have the heart to even look him in the eye, picked instead the center of his chest and tried to ignore the way his cock had started to stir. It was of little effect, an erection plumping up, sticking to the inside of his thigh, starting to wet. He wouldn’t say subservience was something that aroused him, but rather guidance-- someone to lead and take some weight off his shoulders. 

M’Baku raised an eyebrow, watched his cock fatten, and then chuckled as he shook his head. He shrugged off his mantle, then his armor, stepping forward to fill the space with his stature and letting nothing but his warm, firm flesh fill  Bucky’s frame of view. “There’s more than one way to stoke an ember, and this one is considerably more fun than trying to beat it out of you.” 

His strong hands tangled through the back of Bucky’s hair, gripped his skull to drag him forward, lead him to a heaving pec. Without hesitation, he put his mouth to one of M’Baku’s dark, pointed tits, reaching out to grope and massage the other as he sucked and nipped. 

The other man hummed in appreciation, dropping his head back and rolling his shoulders, letting Bucky take his fill and explore. He roamed from there to a glistening collar bone, corded neck, down to a humid, hairy pit. He sniffed and sucked, teethed and nuzzled. Down a flank, across his belly, into his pubes. 

It was easy to drop M’Baku’s skirt, run shaking hands up his thick, powerful thighs. They were well marbled with both muscle and fat-- meaty and glistening. He was uncut, hard, not terribly long, but stout and curving. Bucky could easily take him deep enough, but the real challenge was spreading to let him enter in the first place. 

He mashed his face against M’Baku’s sweaty, swinging balls, licked into his taint, and sniffed long and hard at the creases of his thighs. He suckled on the cockhead, running his tongue under the foreskin and running his hands all over the other man’s body as he tried to stretch his lips. 

He couldn’t get much past the flares of that deep, dark red flesh, but pushed his tongue the rest of the way down to tickle and slurp at his shaft. Eventually he was pulled back up, bent over. M’Baku slapped at his thighs to get him to spread wide enough, palmed his hairy ass easily with those huge hands, thumbs playing with his hole as he was groped. 

“You are dirty...” Bucky felt like whimpering at what he thought was reproach, but then M’Baku slapped his ass and chuckled again, “As every real man should be. I do not fuck with these plastic dolls others try to become. I want a warrior.” He walks away, only briefly, to grab the small jug of oil by the fireplace Bucky had been cooking with, and grins as he slowly pours it over him. 

He lets it drizzle in small, high streams, splattering on his lower back and running in rivulets down his asscrack, pooling in the wrinkles of his low-hanging balls. Bucky does whimper then, wriggling and desperate. M’Baku works him with his thumbs again, until he can feel himself gape-- dirty pink rim spread to show his fluttering insides. 

He doesn’t have to ask for it. As soon as he is near enough ready, the Great Gorilla fucks inside. Bucky cries out, grips so strongly at the table that his metal hand splinters its wood surface. M’Baku goes slow, but he bottoms out on the first motion, heavy balls resting against the back of Bucky’s, hot and tacky. 

“Are you ready, Wolf? Everyone across these plains is about to hear you howl.” Bucky breathes, adjusts his stance, and then nods. The slapping of flesh on flesh fills the room. More sweat than before pours down his body as he arches up to press his back to M’Baku’s chest. 

He is so strong, so stolid. He holds Bucky by the throat with one hand, the hip with the other. He grips tightly, but there is no pain. He bites at Bucky’s shoulders, moves to play with his cock, licks into his pits and then offers his own. They fuck, passionately, relentlessly, for hours. 

It is aggressive. It is rough. It is burning. Towards the end they lock eyes again, foreheads pressed together, lips brushing across one another. Bucky is pressed against a wall, legs wrapped around M’Baku’s waist, slipping just enough to use his feet to play with the other man’s ass. 

He’s been so thoroughly reamed every time M’Baku’s cock pulls out lewd, wet farts follow. Their balls stick every time they slap together and their bushes are matter with sweat and pre. “You are being under-utilized. Come to the mountains, stay with me.” 

Bucky smiles, drinking up the affection like a wilted flower. For the first time in all of it, they kiss, moaning into one another’s mouths, tongues sliding together, puffing air from flared nostrils. “I can’t. I’m waiting for someone, and you don’t need a warrior like me. I’m a heavy heart to carry. Just ask the last man I dragged into the ground.” 

M’Baku does not fight him on this, just listens and acknowledges. It is perhaps one of the greatest kindnesses Bucky thinks he has ever been shown. They kiss again. M’Bkau fucks deep inside him and starts to grind, holding him so tight he nearly feels like he’s being crushed beneath that stolid body. 

He does not come until he feels himself being filled-- warm and thick and overflowing. Then he shoots all over himself, coating the pelt on his chest and belly. When he is lowered to his shaking legs, M’Baku makes sure he makes it safely back to the floor in front of the fireplace, dresses as Bucky checks to see if his dinner is burnt beyond saving. 

M’Baku ruffles his hair before he leaves, says there is always a place for him if he needs it. The lord of the Jabari does not look back when he leaves, knowing his presence will stay in this room for long after. Bucky rubs the seed into his skin as he eats, somehow feeling that much more protected for being coated in his musk. 

Suddenly, it doesn’t seem so lonely, all the way out here. 


End file.
